Funny Girls
by levele3
Summary: John Watson wanted to hide. He was invalid home from Afghanistan at the age of 33 from a gunshot wound to his shoulder, to find a drunk for a sister who is in the middle of a nasty divorce. He meanders into the only nearby club not charging cover with the help of his trusted cane and finds to his surprise it is a Drag Club.


Funny Girls

A/N Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SHERLOCK  
R-E-S-P-E-C-T to ACD, the BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss.  
Thanks for letting me borrow the boys for a bit.

Six Months Ago:

John Watson wanted to hide. He was invalid home from Afghanistan at the age of 33 from a gunshot wound to his shoulder, to find a drunk for a sister who is in the middle of a nasty divorce. He meanders into the only nearby club not charging cover with the help of his trusted cane and finds to his surprise it is a Drag Club, the woman on stage is singing the Eurythmics _Sweet Dreams_, and she _is_ a woman but her backup singers are not. John enjoys the show with a couple of drinks then waits out back. He has a few questions for The Woman.

Six Months Later:

John Watson sat behind the large vanity in the dressing room of Funny Girls applying his mascara with precision. Unlike some of his fellow performers John had naturally long eye lashes and didn't use falsies. His lips were already plump and red, the blonde bombshell wig placed to perfection atop his head and a robe tied loosely over his green sparkling dress. The dress had short sleeves that covered the ugly scar on his shoulder. John had long since lost the cane, learning various dance routines had caused him to realise the limp, once pronounced was only psychosomatic and he didn't notice it all while performing back up for the _Shoop-Shoop Song_ or _Gimme a Man after Midnight_.

The songs were great because John got to actually dress up and hide from the world for a few hours a night. Earlier though John had done the comedy bit Nurse Routine. John loved it sure but it wasn't as fun for him because he didn't get to dress in drag for it. Tonight John would actually be performing center stage, he would be introduced by his stage name, a name he had chosen, and he wouldn't be alone.

The Woman, Irene, was on stage belting out the beginnings of _Sweat Dreams_ and John was still the only one in the dressing room. He was up next and was more than a little nervous. He would be performing tonight with the great Sherlock Holmes after all, or as he was better known, Angel, arguably the best in the business. John had only ever seen Angel perform once but it was the routine he was best known for so it was a good once. Every year at Christmas Angel would do this performance at every club that could book him fast enough it was a big draw and had certainly been his rise to fame.

He took center stage wearing only a red velvet negligée with white fur trim and knocked everybody's socks off with his rendition of _Santa Baby_. John remembered it well, he had been hard the moment those long pale legs had steeped out onto the stage, and almost came when Angel finished the performance by winking, John would swear, right at him. John had gone with a few close friends and had been dressed in "normal" clothes. At the time he thought the performer figured him for completely straight and was trying to make him uncomfortable. It hadn't worked; the performance had led to Angel taking a starring role in his fantasies and now for the first time they'd have to share a stage. John also couldn't listen to _Santa Baby_ without getting stiff and the rest of the holiday season had been a nightmare. He had to adjust himself just thinking about it.

"So you're the newbie" a deep baritone drawled out behind him.

John jumped a little in his chair embarrassed he had not heard anyone enter.

"I'm not as new as you think." John replied a little defensibly making an effort to not turn around instead opting to make eye contact in the mirror as he finished applying his blush.

_God,_ Angel looked just as fantastic as he remembered. Sherlock had no need to wear a wig he kept his naturally curly hair long and all it took was a few hot curlers to bring it to perfection. He was all sharp angles with high cheekbones and a cupid bow's lip. Those lips were a glistening pink and the cheeks were dusted with rouge.

"John Watson" said John standing up and turning to shake hands with the man behind him. He wanted to make a good impression. Sherlock's dress was covered by a robe similar to John's but he had a purse slung over his left shoulder.

Sherlock extended his hand, "Sherlock Holmes" he replied as they shook, "but you can call me Angel" he added in a low and seductive voice, pulling John close he whispered right in the man's ear.

Sherlock let go quickly, dropping John's had as if it had burned him and John fell back into his chair.

"They've had you doing the Nurse Routine." Sherlock commented off handily. As he rummaged through his purse and triumphantly withdrew a pack of fags.

John got the feeling this was somehow meant to rile him as if it was an insult.

"I happen to love doing the Nurse Routine." John shot back.

The Nurse Routine was fun but getting to actually perform to a song was better. Nurse was a gangly Scottish bloke with a ginger wig that was always tucked up under a white nurse's cap. He wore a white nurse costume complete with the Red Cross over his left brest. The dress only just covered his bottom barely making it to the midpoint of his thighs. His long legs were obscured with sexy panty hose held in place by visible garters and sparkly red six inch high pumps donned his feet.

The patient, usually John, was already out on stage suffering from a visible malady. He would then shout "Nurse, oh Nurse." And on she'd come wobbling across the stage in her high heels and promptly diagnose John with everything except the obvious. His cures were often made up of sexual innuendos _"It'll be hard for a few days, but I think you should take it lying down"_ and _"Swallow it, swallow all the medicine down."_ These suggestive comments were usually followed by a wink or eyebrow raise to the crowed. Many of the routines ended with a screen being brought out for the actors to stand behind and allow shadow play of the lewdest kind.

John was only a little disparaged to find out Nurse was married to a petite blonde with generous curves.

After Irene's set was finished Nurse would be going out again but only long enough for Irene to change for her performance with the boys. Irene was almost done and John called in his best falsetto "Nurse, oh Nurse"

"Coming darling, coming" Nurse came into the dressing room from around the corner caring his pumps on his fingers. Nurse stopped dead when he saw Angel.

"Look atchoo, yah sexy thang yhoo. This isn't yar usual haunt." Nurse said completely losing his girly voice and slipping easily into his native Scottish.

"Well, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do" that sensuous voice replied now thick with cigarette smoke.

A thunderous applause made its way into the dressing room from the stage and Irene slipped behind the curtain. A pleased smile on her face, she had performed her best. Irene barely spared them a glace as she raced around the corner and out of sight to do a quick wardrobe change. It wouldn't take long to shuck the black velvet corset and silk garters.

"Isn't she great ladies and gentlemen, isn't she?" Greg's voice drifted back to them and was swallowed by a fresh wave of applause from the easily enthused crowed.

Greg Lestrade was the owner and proprietor of Funny Girls and on nights like this he was emcee as well. John knew he was wearing the circus ring master outfit tonight, complete with high boots, top hat, and lion tamer whip.

"You're a fan." Sherlock said from behind him.

"Hmm" John gave a non-commental hum.

"You saw me perform and suddenly thought, hey I can do that." Sherlock continued to goad him.

"Not true. I've seen you perform, once, but I started months before that." John confided.

John braved a look in the mirror and saw to his surprise Sherlock staring at him, trying to work him out like he was a puzzle or a knot in his back.

Just then from the stage Greg called "Nurse, oh Nurse!"

"Al'right lads that's me cue. Ta loves." Nurse slipped on his shoes and was backing out the door blowing kisses to them.

"You're straight but you have a gay brother who always dressed you up in your mother's clothes and now you cross dress to relieve that feeling of childhood freedom." Sherlock dumped on John the minute the curtain hid Nurse from view.

John gave a quizzical look to the mirror and turned around to face Sherlock.

"Are you trying to wind me up?" He asked, "I'm already nervous having to perform with you and Irene."

After a minute of silence John continued, "Yeah Harry and I used to dress up in our mothers stuff when we were little. We used to be, not close, but closer."

"When did he start drinking?" Sherlock asked going to lite up another fag.

"Harry's always liked to drink but it got worse about six months ago. That's when I started Drag, why I started. I needed to escape, be somebody else for a few hours. It's nice." John let a small smile grace his lips. Then his look turned to one of confusion.

"Hey, how did you know I had a sibling with a drinking problem?" John's eyes were bright and wide as he asked staring right at Sherlock. Everything he was trying so hard to keep hidden this man somehow already knew.

"Your mobile" Sherlock answered pointing to the offending device resting on the vanity, face down. "The drinking got worse when they divorced." Sherlock's voice had softened and sounded like it was drifting away.

John wasn't sure when Sherlock had moved closer but he was suddenly standing right behind him his long pale fingers tracking the engraving on the back. _To Harry, Love Clara xxx_ His arm just barely rubbed up against John's but it was enough he noticed.

"Obviously they divorced because of the whole your brother being gay thing." Sherlock continued, turning and walking back away from the vanity.

For a moment John was utterly lost then the words came sinking through "_The drinking got worse when they divorced"_

"How could you possibly know about the drinking?" John demanded, not unkind, just curious.

"Shot in the dark, good one though." Sherlock's lips twitched up in a smirk "see the scratches there, every night when he goes to plug in the phone to charge his hands are shaking. You never see a sober man's phone with those marks, and never see a drunk's without them."

"Amazing, absolutely amazing" John says astounded and for a brief moment they make eye contact in the mirror.

"You think so?" Sherlock asks looking away, and his high cheeks look just a bit brighter in colour. "That's not what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?" John asked turning around to face Sherlock again.

"Piss off" he says a wide grin breaking across his feature and a genuine sound of mirth escapes his lips.

John smiles back, big, and for a second it feels like they're having a moment, but then the moment is broken.

"Well lad's what do you think?" Irene makes her entrance in a stunning scarlet dress that is cut low in the front, as well as the back, with a long slit up the side. She might as well go on stage in nothing for all the dress actually covers. Irene is gay and well loved by both men and women. She "knows what people like" and brings them pleasure the best way she knows how. The bit they are about to put on is her routine, she choreographed it. Only it wasn't meant to be performed with Angel.

John had only ever practiced the moves with Irene and Lou-Lou. Lou-Lou was a six foot tall solid hunk of muscle built like a bolder. His real name was Harold Louis Alexander Bates and he had been and up and coming Rugby star until some paparazzo had snapped a picture of him in a dress. His career was done for. Harold Bates the Rugby star disappeared and Lou-Lou McQueen was born a new and shining star. Lou-Lou could knock a man out could with one punch, John had seen it happen but he sure was light on his feet in three inch heels.

"You look lovely" Angel says turning and giving a smile to Irene. Angel and Irene went way back. Irene had called in Angel as Lou-Lou's last minute replacement because he was the only other person who knew the moves. They'd done this routine before.

"Ready ladies?" Greg asks as he enters their room the ring master's outfit looks better than John remembered but Greg's really not his type. A silver fox some would say. However the posh man in the nice suits who only comes to watch on night's that Greg takes the stage, well he could find Greg very much his type.

John and Sherlock both lose their robes and John's surprised to find Sherlock in a lovely plum dress that does wonders against that great expanse of pale skin.

Greg nods his head and makes his way back on stage to introduce them and they hear some poor sod being dragged off the stage and away from Nurse.

"You ready Shirley?" Irene asks

"Yes" both John and Sherlock reply at the same time.

"And don't call me Shirley" Sherlock hisses.

"I wasn't talking to you." Irene sneers "Angel darling, I'd like to introduce you to Shirley Coming"

Sherlock's eyes go wide and he turns around to look at John who has cocked out his hip seductively resting his hand there suggestively. John is looking up at him through long dark lashes completely in character now. It's enough to make any man hard. Sherlock feel's his cheeks flush and turns abruptly around to follow Irene to the stage entrance.

"Was I wrong about anything?" Sherlock half turns back to face John and whispered in his ear as they lined up behind the curtain leading onto the stage.

"Harry is gay, Harry is short for Harriett." John's nervousness was gone now he was just ready to perform.

"Sister" he herd Sherlock hiss "Always something."

"And, I'm not completely straight." John added giving Sherlock's arse a firm squeeze.

Sherlock jumped a little at the unexpected touch but didn't have any time to react Greg was calling them on stage.

"And now ladies and gentlemen, and everyone in-between, they moment you've all been waiting for, Funny Girls is pleased to present The Woman, special guest star Angel, and in her debut performance Shirley Coming!"

The three made their way onto the stage and the butterflies returned to John's stomach the lights were brighter than he was used to making the applauding crowed impossible to see. John should not have feared though. He knew this routine had practiced it every waking moment for the past month. In the shower, as he walked down the hall, while he cooked or cleaned in the kitchen. He woke up singing the words to the song he already knew so well. He took his beginning pose and when the music started, he moved.

Bonnie Tyler's _I Need a Hero_ thumped out of the sound system and Sherlock remembers moves he once thought long forgotten. This had been Irene's main gig once and he had only been starting out as a back-up performer. His promising talent and dedication had gotten Irene's attention and she turned the show into a duet. It had been his first step up the ladder. His first solo performance, the _Santa Baby_ routine was still high in demand. But it had been years since he moved his body like this. _Santa Baby_ was a slow seduction of the audience _I Need a Hero_ was all hot and fast that would leave the three of them breathless and sweating.

Amazingly they pulled it off with no missteps. Everyone managed to swivel their hips at the right time and hit all the right notes. They finished to a grand standing ovation as the full house erupted into their loudest applause yet. The cheers were mingled with wolf whistles and cat calls.

John's blood was singing with his adrenaline high and was letting his endorphins show. A silly smile was plastered across his face. He turned and faced his co-performers and noticed similar smiles mirrored back at him. They joined hands and took three deep bows as the applause continued. Well John's first performance as Shirley had gone well, quite well indeed. The light directed at the stage had dimmed some and he could see the crowed at the edge of the stage. Some men had pieces of paper and pens they were holding out in his direction. It took John longer than it should have to realize they wanted his autograph. Me? He thought they want me?

He watched as Irene bent down and took a napkin some guy was holding out toward her but she didn't take the pen, instead she pressed her lips to the napkin and handed it back to him. The woman next to him nearly swooned.

It took Greg coming back out on stage to calm everyone down enough to let the three exit the stage.

Back in the dressing room John was still coming down from his performing high. All the rehearsals had never made him feel this elated; something about the live performance must have caused this extra rush.

Nurse was waiting for him dressed in his civilian clothes with a bouquet of roses. His wife was standing next to him, both had huge smiles. "You were fantastic love" Nurse praised him," I'm so proud of you." He pressed a quick kiss to John's left cheek. "We've got to run, but you were brilliant, absolutely brilliant." They left John holding the bouquet and staring after them blankly.

"Oh John, that was so great, your best yet. We'll have to do it again." Irene was rambling at him talking about adjustments, and solo performances, he wasn't sure he was ready for that yet. The whole time she was talking she was changing out of the Jessica Rabbit dress and into sweats and a baggy T-shirt. "Well I've got an early day tomorrow. Ta love." Irene kissed his right cheek leaving a faded red lip print there.

Irene also taught yoga, and aerobic classes as well as pole dancing to supplement her income at a nearby dance studio. That must be where her early day started. Tomorrow night she'd perform here again once again becoming The Woman.

John hadn't moved in a while, he was still standing there frozen in place when that rich baritone made its way into his brain again.

"You were quite good" Sherlock purred.

John had been convinced Sherlock had wanted him to fail at this, get out there on stage and make an absolute fool of himself so why did he sound so satisfied. As if he had been the one to encourage him every time he fell down, or missed a note.

John turned around to confront him but had to stop at the sight that met his eyes.

Sherlock's dress was pooled around his feet and his bare chest was covered in red splotches from his physical exertion. John thought he imagined a bulge in Sherlock's pants as he pulled up his jeans.

John let out a breath he didn't realised he'd been holding in and only then realised the room was empty except for them.

"Is something the matter?" Sherlock asked as he picked the dress up off the floor and unabashedly looked at John. Sherlock smirked and ran a hand through his sweaty curls closing his eyes almost completely.

John felt something twitch in his neither regions and realised Sherlock was playing it up. He wanted this, and knew John wanted it to.

A croaked out "Yeah" and oh, John's mouth was suddenly dry. He swallowed, hard, "Um yeah, could you be a dear and unzip me?" John asked turning back around without waiting for a reply. John glanced sideways into the mirror to watch what Sherlock would do. For a moment nothing happened he just stood there looking at John's back, but two could play this game.

John shivered as he watched Sherlock's brain work finally tossing his dress aside and striding his way over to John. He stopped just short of reaching out his hand but then suddenly completed the movement and yanked the zipper all the way down exposing John's back and arse crack. John had to wrap his arms around the front of the dress to keep it from falling down completely.

"Thanks mate" he croaked again.

Sherlock didn't say a word just continued to stare at John's bare back. John didn't mind, after all he was still looking in the mirror appreciating the hairless well-toned chest of the man standing behind him. After another minute of silence John remembered the hideous bullet wound in his shoulder was that what Sherlock was looking at so intently? John began to move his foot as if to step away when Sherlock broke the deafening silence.

"I," Sherlock's voice cracked, he swallowed and tried again, "I know a nice little Italian place, Angelo's, not too far-"

John turned to face him filling up his space, "Yes, God yes" he whispered back cutting off Sherlock's rambling with a kiss. As he captured his lips John let the dress fall, after all he had nothing to hide anymore.

A/N Before you ask yes, Nurse is portrayed by David Tennant. I like for my stories to have cameos, also his wife is played by Billie Piper. Rose and Ten are not my favourite Doctor Who pairing but I liked the idea of David in Drag and well who else is going to play someone named Nurse. Some men who dress in drag are not gay and it is perfectly believable for him to be married.

I wanted this story to be about John feeling like he has to hide all these things about him self but in the end realises it is perfectly fine to be who he is. Especially when he meets a man who can deduce all of his secrets any way. I hope this comes across. Just be your self so when someone loves you, they really love you, for everything you come with.

Songs mentioned are all worth listening to if you haven't heart them before. They are: The Eurthymtics -Sweat Dreams (are made of this) Cher- The Shoop-Shoop Song (It's In His Kiss) ABBA- Gimme a Man After Midnight Eartha Kitt- Santa Baby Bonnie Tyler- I Need a Hero


End file.
